The Cause of Liberty
by Esmeralde
Summary: A young woman's account of the American Revolution as she learns to deal with life and love during the tumultous times of the war which founded a new nation.


**First off, I do not claim to own any of the people mentioned in the movie 'The Patriot' or in the history books. I can only say this about my own characters, unfortunately...**

**Well, now that the credits have been doled out, I feel the need to tell you all that this is my first fanfic story ever, so please don't be too hard on me.**

**Secondly, I'd like to tell you my reasons for writing this story. The idea came about as I was conducting some research for a project at the local library about the famed Christopher Gadsen. Although many may or may not have heard of the man, he was a great historical figure and also a great asset to the American cause during the time of the Revolution. Christopher Gadsen first made a name for himself by speaking out against the Stamp Acts in 1765. He served in Congress until early 1776, when he left to take up command of the 1st South Carolina Regiment of the Continental Army. Christopher Gadsen, or 'Uncle' Christopher- as he is referred to by Amelia, actually did live in Charleston until he was put on perole in his house when the city fell to the British. He also did have two children named Elizabeth and Christopher Jr. and a grandson, James for whom the Gadsen Purchase was named after.**

**All right. History lesson aside, I hope that you enjoy the story and please review!**

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"Ouch! Betsy, please do try to be more gentle!" The vain and lovely peacock of a girl named Annabelle drew her small face into an angry scrunch- giving her the appearance of a raisin, I noted with a small smile and a pointed glance at the ceiling. Pushing away the servant who had set to combing her hair, she made sure to pass the silent young woman a deathly glare.

"Be still, will you, Annabelle?" I quickly rolled to my stomach upon my sister's bed and cast a pointed glare in her direction. "You don't wish for anyone to rush up here thinking you are being murdered, do you?" Raising an eyebrow and waiting for her ultimate and angry retort, I lifted her little book of works from long-dead poets and began to quickly flip through the crisp pages of the rarely opened book. "I would not expect a lady of your standing to shout so boisterously," I said impassively, my voice holding no emotion.

I understood that the statement would make Annabelle quite upset and she would bite back with small and insignificant arguments. Thus was one of the little games we would find ourselves playing. I goaded her on and she, being too slow in manners of wit, would play along until she had worked herself into a pouting silence. My father considered such antics to be quite unseemly and not the manner in which any of his daughters should converse with one another. However, at that precise moment in time, I did not care to worry about Papa's opinions.

"Amelia!" she hissed, yet managed to keep quite still as Betsy piled her curls atop her head in a beautiful style which she had often told me was the latest fashion among wives of important men. "How dare you speak to me like that? Papa shall hear of this!"

"Annabelle you deserved it- snittering and prancing about like a little peacock and neglecting to show others any courtesy." Rolling to my back, I rested my cheek upon the soft blankets of her bed and toyed with the lace about the neckline of my dress. My sister's attitude oftentimes made me angry and the most recent attack of her temper set me to loathing her so fiercely that I almost feared she would drop dead where she sat so very primly. Many a time, I had longed for Papa to marry her off, and now was no exception to that secret desire.

"I merely did not wish to have my hair ripped from my scalp." Bright green eyes, so similar to my own flashed angrily at me as Annabelle ran a delicate and pale hand across her flower print dress, and I almost felt a pang of jealousy race through my chest. My older sibling was beautiful- exceedingly so, and I always felt inferior in a way when I was forced to be around her. Many of the local young men seemed to be quite infatuated with her, including the son of a neighboring farmer named Benjamin Martin. His eldest son, Gabriel had seemed quite taken with Annabelle ever since they were very young, and I had always been left out of their silly games…

Annabelle's eyes narrowed and she cast me a small glare before pursing her lips and turning her head to stare out her window at the distant fields, silently and effectively stating that she no longer wished for my presence in her room. Understanding thoroughly, I rose from the bed and nodded quickly before heading away from the scene of Annabelle staring wordlessly out her window, her anger just barely contained.

Alone in the hall, I was left to my thoughts. I pondered Annabelle's angry outbursts as of late. Had I not known my sister any better, I would have believed that perhaps she had her eyes set upon some young man who would not have her. The thought amused me and I barely repressed a squeal of laughter before placing my hand over my mouth. Simply imagining Annabelle being shunned by a man made me want to laugh all the harder at her. Yet, I knew that my sister would never be thrown aside by any man, lest they happened to be blind. With a small sigh, I decided to content myself with visiting the horses in the far field. Annabelle's personal situations and tantrums were no business of mine, and I should not act as though I cared at all about her.

Slowly, I placed one foot before the other and stepped out onto the long white-washed front porch of my father's plantation house. The warm wind blew, caressing my face gently and beckoning me to step forward once again. Adjusting my skirts, I hurried down the wooden steps and felt my feet sink into the tall and green grasses. The clear skies and gentle winds brought the smallest upward tilt to my lips, yet had not the time to become a smile, for at that very moment, a figure came into view. The man was running hard and fast and for a moment, I thought that something was wrong.

"Isaac!" I felt myself calling out his name before his face even came into view, for I knew my older brother's clumsy way of running and how he nearly always tripped over himself in the process. "What is the matter?" He arrived and leaned over, catching his breath before he turned to me again, a smile playing across his face.

Isaac continued to breathe heavily, but he spoke now, for which I was quite grateful, and hoped that he would soon explain himself. When at last my brother did speak, his black curls bounced and his green eyes shown excitedly. "Father has been summoned to Charleston along with Uncle Christopher, Mr. Martin, Mr. Conwell and Mr. Wilkins." He must have noticed my blank expression, for he began to hastily explain between breaths. "The Provincial Congress has called all of the landowners and congressmen in South Carolina to meet in Charleston in two weeks to discuss independence from England."

"Truly, Isaac?" I smiled and flung myself at him, squeezing his waist tightly. "Oh, Isaac! So this means that the colonies will finally do something about independence?" My face must have appeared hopeful and my eyes were perhaps too expectant, for he simply shrugged and drew back from my embrace.

"Well, in the very least, South Carolina will finally decide where it stands upon the war. Unfortunately, I cannot say the same for the other southern colonies." Isaac gave a little humoring smile to which I felt my skin heat in indignation. How could he treat me as though I were completely ignorant? Though whether he failed to realize my flare of temper or ignored it completely, I could not tell, yet he continued to speak casually. "Mr. Martin should be arriving tonight to speak with Pa, as well."

Suddenly at its peak, my interest was unable to be contained. "Why would Mr. Martin need to visit?" My brows furrowed questioningly as I gazed up at my brother.

Isaac's black quiche bounced as he shook his head and shrugged. "Not sure, but it probably has something to do with Pa's stand on independence. You see, Mr. Martin seems not to believe that war is the answer." My older brother glanced toward the fields. "I think that he may attempt to change Pa's mind on the issue of American independence."

Hands played with my skirts absently and I smiled, a slight laugh escaping my mouth. "We all know that Papa's opinions will never change." My mouth twitched slightly. "He 'is' the younger brother of Congressman Gadsen for heaven's sake, and Papa is as stubborn as an old bull." Quickly, I glanced about to check that Papa was not about. Were he to overhear such talk, he would have scolded me for certain.

Isaac gave a little smile and patted my shoulder. "Very true," he said, nearly laughing at the comparing of Father to a bull. "I am very sorry, Amelia, but I'm afraid that now I must return to help Pa and the men in the fields." With a final smile, he turned about and pushed his clumsy legs into an awkward run, heading closer to where Pa worked alongside the freedmen and slaves alike farming his thousands of acres of fields. I watched my brother's clumsy manner of getting about with a small smile and began once more to make my way toward the pastures where the horses were kept.

"A Gadsen never casts aside his views." The words left my lips in a near whisper and I nearly smiled. Papa and Mr. Martin's conversation would be an interesting one indeed, and I could hardly wait to see the look upon my sister's face when Gabriel came with his father for dinner. I had no intentions of warning her of his arrival…

As I pondered thoughts of my sibling and her newest beau, I became quite unaware of myself and a sharp pain rose up my ankle. "Oh!" I shouted then covered my mouth with my hand as the searing agony pulsated through my ankle. Looking behind myself, I found the cruel offender. The stone lay in the deep grass, nearly covered entirely by the green shoots. "Oh, for goodness sake!" I grumbled and flopped myself in a most unlady-like manner into the grass. I must have stepped upon the stone just right, I decided as I removed my stocking and shoe with one hand and held my lace underskirts up with the other. My ankle was not mangled- as I had expected due to the immense pain- but merely swelled a good bit. I glanced quickly about myself, making sure no one had witnessed my mishap.

There was nothing I could do, save to make my way back to the house, which was now some fifty yards away. "Lovely," my words suggested everything but as I slowly rose to my feet and forced my stocking and shoe back on my foot. "Perhaps you would prefer for me to remain inside then?" I raised my face to the sky as though expecting some divine answer, yet only the clouds dared answer in their own silent way. My lungs took in a deep breath as I prepared to scream my displeasure at my present situation, yet I managed to contain the very action. Instead, I began to move toward the large house at fairly rapid pace, considering my recent injury.

Feet moved haltingly and skirts swayed as I made my way up the front steps at last and entered the great room with its many fine furnishings. Mounting the next set of stairs, I moved steadily toward the upper level rooms, my ankle pulsating with a dull pain. I gritted my teeth as I entered the main hall and spied Annabelle's room. She would certainly find my plight amusing; hence I needed to remain well enough away from her on my quest to reach my bedroom as quickly as possible. Moving silently, I reached my room at last and quickly collapsed upon my bed, quite drained from staggering about like a drunken barmaid. Luckily, no person had seen my mishap or my embarrassing journey to my bedroom.

"Betsy!" I had bellowed her name like a dying cow and wished that I could somehow remove the harshness from the sound, for I did not intend to be rude. When the servant girl arrived, I noted that she knitted her pale freckled hands together and glanced fleetingly about. She appeared quite nervous. "I am sorry about my tone, Betsy, but would you please fetch me a pillow? My ankle is quite sore…"

Blue eyes remained emotionless as the young woman nodded and hurried off to do as was asked. As she exited the room, I was forced to think of my predicament. Because of the ache in my ankle, I would be forced to forgo dinner, which I did not so much mind. Yet, I was interested in what my father and Mr. Martin would discuss after dinner and hated to miss the chance of listening in. With an angry little growl, I rolled to my back and propped my head upon my pillow. I was about to accept defeat when an idea entered my mind. Ah yes, with some mild convincing, I was quite sure that my little plan would work…

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Several hours found myself carefully tucked into bed with my ankle propped upon several pillows and reading the little book of poetry my sister had let me borrow. Indeed, Annabelle had seemed quite sorry for my predicament, which was surprising enough, yet I never would have imagined she would readily agree to my deceitful scheme. Perhaps she had felt guilty for previous actions, yet I greatly doubted this.

Annabelle had promised me she would find out what Mr. Martin would discuss with our father, and I greatly doubted she would go back upon her word- she was far too proud for that. My mouth curved as the thought of my sister, back pressed against the wall, listening in on our father's conversation from around the corner. She would likely have an earful for me when she finally told me of the conversation of the two men, and I doubted that she would have kind words for me either. Most likely, my older sibling would be infuriated that I would even ask such a thing of her, and she would be quick to tell me such. Silently, I shifted so that I lay upon my side and prepared for my sister's eventual entrance.

Perhaps I should not have asked such a thing of Annabelle, but she had agreed to do as was asked, therefore, I reasoned that I could not be held accountable. My older sibling did not disappoint as she hurried into the room and promptly cast a glare in my direction before seating herself rather ungraciously at the foot of my bed. Moving so that I could study Annabelle, I gazed at her hands which toyed constantly at the lace upon her flower-covered dress. "Well?" I could no longer bear to have her know of anything I currently did not.

Annabelle gazed quickly in my direction and rolled her eyes skyward as though thinking of me as being dim-witted or some other endearment of hers. "Papa and Mr. Conwell along with Mr. Wilkins shall be leaving on the morrow for the journey to Charleston. Papa plans for you, myself and George to join him on the trip." Her lips curved upward ever so slightly, and I knew already that she thought of Gabriel Martin. She then appeared to part momentarily from her imaginings and continued. "Isaac and James will stay with the slaves and keep the house running properly…"

"Yes… This is all very good news, Annabelle. I should like very much to join Papa in Charleston…" I was growing tired of her small and insignificant little bits of what she believed were knowledge. Propping my head upon one arm, I stared at her, hoping that she would catch my hint. When she did not and kept staring at the wall, I had to look for a moment to make sure Gabriel Martin himself had just stepped through. "But, Annabelle, certainly this is not the only thing which they spoke of?"

Annabelle gave a deep sigh and cast me a small glare. "What else do they discuss other than the war, Amelia? They both feel very differently and Mr. Martin encourages Papa not to support anything that would enter the colonies into war." She spoke slowly and deliberately, as though attempting to make me feel that the conversation was about nothing I had not heard before.

"But Annabelle," I began and rolled onto my back once again. My voice trailed off slightly. Of course, I was grappling for something else to say, but could think of nothing. Truth be told, I was quite irritated that Annabelle did not catch any more information from Mr. Martin and Father's conversation, yet I dared not cause a fuss over such a small issue.

Her lips turned to a frown as my sister pouted. "What I say is the truth, Amelia, and it is all that I have heard. Therefore, I believe that you may end your interrogations immediately." She made a show of fussing over my ankle before turning a lovely shade of pale green and looking away, to which I allowed myself a small smile. "As for preparing to leave, Betsy and the other servants will be packing our things for us. Why, Lizbeth is on her way to your room after she and Betsy finish packing my things." Annabelle's eyes wandered to my swollen ankle once again, and she frowned ever so slightly. "Does it hurt very much?"

"Not horribly. No." I shook my head quickly, knowing that if I admitted that it bothered me, Annabelle would make certain to tell Papa and he would in turn, keep me at home. I glanced at the inflated and inflamed area where I had twisted my ankle and prayed to God that the swelling might go down before tomorrow and our journey to the city. I longed to see my cousins Christopher Jr. and Elizabeth once again. Although Elizabeth was, by this time, married and beginning a family of her own, she had always seemed to have the time to spend with me.

Placing a pale hand upon my ankle tenderly, Annabelle gave me a small smile. "Good, then you shall be able to come with me." She quickly rose to her feet and grasped the pillow propping up my ankle. "Quickly now, I'm going to move this so I can pull the covers from beneath you." Quick as could be, my older sister had covered me with the light blankets and had propped my injured ankle beneath them then lay down beside me, as she had done many a time when I used to have such horrible nightmares. "I hope that you'll have fun in Charleston, Amelia. Uncle Christopher will be there to meet us, and we shall stay with him and our cousins for two weeks."

I gave a little yawn and nodded, a slight smile coming to my face. My sister could make rather good company when she was not in one of her angry moods. "Will Papa allow for any servants to join us?" My eyelids felt heavy as I attempted to keep them open, yet I was clearly losing the battle as I heard Annabelle's voice soften.

"Alice will join us and Abraham will come along to drive one of the wagons." Annabelle placed a cool hand to my brow and spoke in a near whisper. "You need your sleep, Amelia. Go to sleep and don't worry. I will remain in your room to show Lizbeth which dresses to pack for you to wear."

Nodding, I allowed my tired body to relax. I was quite excited for the journey to Charleston, yet I had a sneaking suspicion that my sister was infinitely more elated than myself. Gabriel would be joining us along with his own family and I knew that Annabelle's interest in him went quite beyond infatuation- as I was sure he felt toward her. They seemed quite destined to be married one day, yet only time would tell…

The last things which I heard before drifting into unconsciousness were Annabelle's voice directing and the soft agreement of Betsy and Lizbeth as they moved a trunk across the floor and began piling clothing inside. The next few days would prove grueling, yet the idea of visiting Papa's brother and Annabelle and my cousins brought a small smile to my mouth as sleep overcame me.

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**All right, then. Did you like it? Not like it? I am always open to corrective criticism. Please let me know if you spotted any inconsistencies or anything I can change. Please no flames, or I may be tempted to send you something back.**

**Thanks again for reading, and i hope to have another chapter up very soon!**


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